


Fools Aren't Born (Pretty Girls Make Them In Their Spare Time)

by cerie



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Dalmatians, Dogs, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tries to be annoyed but the dog keeps looking up at him with big brown eyes and this is a well-documented and established weakness of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fools Aren't Born (Pretty Girls Make Them In Their Spare Time)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Callie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie/gifts).



> I blame Callie for watching the live action 101 Dalmatians with Jeff Daniels and also [this post](http://iwillnotsettledown.tumblr.com/post/57771700949/billy-mcavoy-iwillnotsettledown) on Tumblr.

“Can anyone tell me why the _fuck_ there’s a dog in my office?”

Everyone gives him blank stares and it’s like this fucking wall of solidarity until Jim pipes up and says that he needs to talk to MacKenzie. It figures that MacKenzie would have something to do with the pregnant, spotted, half-starved thing currently galloping around in his office and he stalks straight down to hers, yanking the door open.

She’s reading her paper because it’s still early and she lifts a finger, asking for him to pause so she can finish the line. Will does, because he knows that half the reason this show is good is because of MacKenzie and he needs to let her do her job even if she’s responsible for his current pest problem. 

“Can I help you?” she asks, glasses slipping down her nose slightly. Will tries not to let his righteous fury ebb because he needs it to figure out what the fuck a dog is doing in his office. “Uh, so, there’s a four legged nuisance in my office and I’m not really sure why.”

MacKenzie colors a little and laughs, warm and throaty. Will has missed that laugh terribly and he tries to stick to his guns even though Jesus fuck she is exactly as cute as she thinks she is sometimes. “Ah, well, she was abandoned outside the building this morning and I didn’t want Animal Control to come get her. There’s leash laws, you know. And she’s starving and pregnant and I didn’t want to just leave her. So I put her in your office. I would have put her in mine but I was trying to work and you weren’t here. It made sense at the time.”

“Uh huh. Well, you’re taking her home,” Will says and MacKenzie starts shaking her head before he even finishes the sentence because she already knows she’s objecting. It’s sad that this is yet another reminder of their failed relationship because he’d honestly thought, back then, that MacKenzie had been the one for him simply because of shit like this.

“My building doesn’t allow pets. Well, they do, but not as big as a Dalmatian, I can’t take her,” MacKenzie says and then she uses her most dangerous weapon on him: those eyes and that pout. Will is pretty much powerless against that, except when it involves the stupid message he left her back after the bin Laden broadcast. If she wants to pester him about a dog, he’s willing to take that in exchange for not talking about the message.

“Fine. Spot goes home with me,” Will says, ignoring MacKenzie’s eyeroll and muttered, “You’re not calling her Spot, it’s completely unimaginative.”

He didn’t ask for a dog, either, but he has one.

***

Will ends up taking the dog to the vet and when he says it’s named Spot, the vet gives him a look and Will sighs and decides to give her an actual name. “Dulcinea, then,” he says, and it turns out Dulcinea is pregnant and probably going to have puppies in the next few weeks. The vet says that Will can bring her back to be boarded when that happens and then he can start working on giving the little fuckers away. Great.

He tries to be annoyed but the dog keeps looking up at him with big brown eyes and this is a well-documented and established weakness of his. He buys a leash and a dog bowl and little pee pads and all the shit you have to have for a dog and hopes that it doesn’t take her long to get housebroken because he’s not even in the mood for dealing with that shit. 

When they get back to his apartment, the doorman looks a little shocked he has a dog and Will just sighs. “New purchase. I decided I was tired of being lonely.” He guesses, ultimately, it will be nice to have a guard dog in case someone tries to kill him but Dulcinea doesn’t exactly look like the killer type. 

She’s good in the elevator, considering, and when Will lets her into the apartment, she immediately runs and gets on the couch. He strongly suspects Dulcinea used to belong to someone because she seems completely at home in his apartment and, all told, she wasn’t that dirty and malnourished. He doesn’t really want to think about that. Whoever had her probably put her on the street because they didn’t want her anymore and maybe it’s stupid but he’s sensitive to that shit. He knows how it feels.

“Dog, we’re going to have to have a conversation about where we do and do not sit. Down,” he says, impressed when she immediately hops down and curls up on the floor. She keeps close, though, as if she doesn’t really trust that he won’t just disappear on her and Will sighs. He pours food in her bowl and pours her water and when she’s done scarfing it all down, he crosses back into the living room to work for a little while. It takes him a minute to notice it because he’s engrossed in his laptop and the stupid hate blog he has open in the other tab but Dulcinea’s gotten back on the couch, pressed as close as she can. 

Maybe it’s reinforcing bad behavior but he reaches over and scratches between her ears. Maybe there’s something to this dog owning shit after all.

***

He wakes up the next morning to Dulcinea in his bed and licking his face. Will isn’t so much a fan of that, considering she also licks everything else with that mouth, but he’s not as angry about the bed part as he thinks he should be. So he decides it can continue and the dog bed he bought goes unused for the next few weeks.

He learns that owning a dog is kind of like being a parent because you have to get a dog walker and it’s like a goddamn act of Congress to find one that is good enough to trust _your_ dog with. He interviews several and doesn’t like any of them so he asks one of his neighbors who they use and he gets the name of a girl who seems promising. Dulcinea is pretty tame, after all, so even though the girl is 5’1” and looks like a stiff breeze will blow her over, he doesn’t think she’ll have any issues. He has Lonny run backgrounds on her and everything checks out, so Will’s satisfied with that.

It’s late October when he gets a call right before the show from the dogwalker (Ginny) and she’s breathless and seems upset. Apparently Dulcinea went and had her puppies in his closet and Ginny found her when she came in to take her for her walk. Jesus _fuck_. He should have went ahead and boarded her but he liked having the company and just never got around to it. He tells Ginny to stay and calls the vet, who says Dulcinea will probably be fine by herself but to bring her in in the next few days just to make sure she and the puppies are all right. 

Will shows up and pays Ginny twice as much as usual and she seems shocked but he knows she missed her other jobs because she was sitting around waiting on him and he has to make up for that. He heads back to the bedroom and while he wants, desperately, to yell at the stupid dog for having puppies _in his closet_ she looks up at him with big, sad eyes and he just can’t. 

There’s four little whimpering puppies all fighting for a chance to eat and he gets down in the floor next to them, absently scratching Dulcinea’s head while he runs a hand over the puppies. They could fit in the palm of his hand, they’re that small, and he stops petting Dulcinea because he gets distracted; she pushes her head against his hand until he starts up again. “Okay, dog, you did good. They’re good looking babies.” 

What the hell is he going to do with all these dogs?

***

In a few weeks, MacKenzie comes over to see the puppies and help him wrangle them all to the vet’s office for shots. She coos over them, giggling in absolute, unfettered delight when they come careening around the corner from his bedroom and slip and slide against the floor. Dulcinea likes MacKenzie too, coming close to beg for pets, and MacKenzie obliges her with some attention before getting down in the floor with the puppies.

“They’re sweet, Will,” she says, picking one up and snuggling it against her face and it licks her lightly. “And they’ve got their spots! I guess whatever other dog got hold of her didn’t ruin the coloring.” Will knows shit all about dog breeding so he takes MacKenzie’s word for that and helps her load them up in a box so they can go to the vet. They’re all growing well, even though the oldest one is a little pig, and the youngest is a little underweight. They whimper about shots and Will decides he’ll take them all to the park so he can let Dulcinea get walked by someone not-Ginny for once.

It’s early November and there’s leaves everywhere, which the puppies seem to think is the best thing they’ve ever seen in their life. Will knows there’s probably rules and shit to this park but he doesn’t care, not when MacKenzie is in a little knit cap and a scarf and giggling every time the puppies do something even remotely cute. She looks happier than he’s seen her in a long time and it tugs at his heart in a way he doesn’t really want to think about. 

He ends up asking MacKenzie over for takeout after they bring the dogs home and she falls asleep on his couch, puppies snoozing contently in her lap. Will hates to wake her up but his couch sucks and he doesn’t want her to be miserable in the morning. “Mac, you fell asleep,” he murmurs, brushing his hand over her hair. She’s a little confused and slow on the uptake but he eventually gets her in his bed, a much more comfortable place to sleep if she’s staying over. He heads to the guest room and wishes the bed wasn’t so shitty and that it didn’t feel so damn lonely. 

He’s somewhat satisfied when Dulcinea follows him and curls up next to him, abandoning her puppy watching duties for the night.

***

In the end, giving the puppies away is harder than finding a dogwalker. MacKenzie can’t take one and Will wants to make sure they go to good people because he’s been living with the little fuckers for the past two months and he’s fond of them. He’s decided that he’s keeping the smallest one, calling it Sancho, but the other three have got to go.

Charlie ends up taking one, saying his wife has been after him for a dog and he gives one to Herb who says his grandchildren would love to play with it when they come visit. Both of these are completely acceptable for Will, since he knows that means they’ll get plenty of attention and love. 

He has no idea what to do with the last one until he sees Lonny down in the floor with him, baby talking and generally being a complete fool. He offers the dog sort of off-handed, not sure if Lonny will believe him and take it, but he does and Will feels good about that, glad that at least these puppies aren’t going to be put out on the street like Dulcinea had been.

He’s not sure when he started caring so much for _dogs_. 

He’s also not sure when his bed became a mess of spots and fur but it’s kind of nice to have Sancho pressed up against his side and Dulcinea curled up at his feet and he thinks that as much as he bitches about it, as much as it’s frustrating and time-consuming, he loves these two furballs.

But he’s never, _ever_ telling MacKenzie that.


End file.
